1) Recent publications in the American Journal of Psychiatry further document the pitfalls of the proposed diagnosis and explicitly advise against its inclusion in DSM 5.

2) Withdrawal of support for DSM 5 inclusion from two of its previous strongest backers- pioneers in this field of research, Patrick McGorry and Alison Yung. They join many other researchers in the early intervention field who care a great deal about helping to reduce the burdens of schizophrenia, but recognize that the DSM 5 psychosis risk proposal is a premature and fatally flawed means to this end.

3) Continuing shocking evidence of the extensive off label use of antipsychotic medications that has made them the highest revenue producing class of drugs in the US.

It is long past time for DSM 5 to accept that psychosis risk, however renamed or repackaged, simply won't fly. There is much work to be done on DSM 5 and very little time to do it in. All needless distractions should be off-loaded. At this point, psychosis risk is a needless distraction. It should have an honored place in the appendix and be the subject of extensive research, but is not near ready for serious consideration as an official category.

"Continuing shocking evidence of the extensive off label use of antipsychotic medications that has made them the highest revenue producing class of drugs in the US"

This is nothing new and/or shocking. It's irresponsible. The mental health industry in this country has steadily grown out of control. Psychiatrist are more worried about being paid for a impersonal 20 minute session rather than actually help their client from the hell they are in. In order to keep seeing patients in such an unprofessional manner they need to prescribe...something...even if that drug is being used for its unintended purpose.

I should know I was put on a drug that caused by behavior to racially change. I went from a person wit depression to one of hostility, suicidality and aggression in literally days. When I had discovered this change was a DIRECT RESULT of the drug I confront this (pseudo) doctor directly who told me "Well, we really don't know how one drug is going to affect somebody over another." I'm sorry, by that is inexcusable and dangerous.

And much of this is based upon the DSM and the farce that so many have blindly bought into. Mental illness or not, the psychiatry profession is playing with the lives of human beings. Yet, there is little regulation, little counter-balancing and no medical ethics other than the B.S. standard code of them.

This is so sad that now there will be a new generation of individuals to be diagnosed with "psychosis risk" based on no founded scientific evidence and that many of them will suffer needlessly (probably more so) than I ever did. Hey, i thought modern psychology was supposed to help people, nowadays with the DSM V we're no better off than African witch doctors.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Mudville nine that day;
The score stood four to two, with but one inning more to play,
And then when Cooney died at first, and Barrows did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the patrons of the game.

A straggling few got up to go in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only Allen could but get a whack at that —
We'd put up even money now, with Allen at the bat."

But Flynn preceded Allen, as did also Jimmy Blake,
And the former was a hoodoo, while the latter was a cake;
So upon that stricken multitude grim melancholy sat;
For there seemed but little chance of Allen getting to the bat.

But Flynn let drive a single, to the wonderment of all,
And Blake, the much despised, tore the cover off the ball;
And when the dust had lifted, and men saw what had occurred,
There was Jimmy safe at second and Flynn a-hugging third.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the flat,
For Allen, mighty Allen, was advancing to the bat.

There was ease in Allen's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Allen's bearing and a smile lit Allens's face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly doffed his hat,
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas Allen at the bat.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his hands with dirt.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped them on his shirt.
Then while the writhing pitcher ground the ball into his hip,
Defiance flashed in Allen's eye, a sneer curled Allen's lip.

And now the leather-covered sphere came hurtling through the air,
And Allen stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the sturdy batsman the ball unheeded sped —
"That ain't my style," said Allen. "Strike one!" the umpire said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on a stern and distant shore;
"Kill him! Kill the umpire!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed him had not Allen raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great Allen's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the game go on;
He signaled to the pitcher, and once more the dun sphere flew;
But Allen still ignored it, and the umpire said "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from Allen and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Allen wouldn't let that ball go by again.

The sneer has fled from Allen's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate;
He pounds with cruel violence his bat upon the plate.
And now the pitcher holds the ball, and now he lets it go,
And now the air is shattered by the force of Allen's blow.

Oh! somewhere in this favored land dark clouds may hide the sun;
And somewhere bands no longer play and children have no fun;
And somewhere over blighted loves there hangs a heavy pall;
But Mudville hearts are happy now--for Allen hit the ball.